


Afterparty

by plingo_kat



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: M/M, tuxedo!sex, unapologetic porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/pseuds/plingo_kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all but fall into the room, jackets shed carelessly on the floor and ties half-off their necks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterparty

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Афтерпати](https://archiveofourown.org/works/508271) by [Helga Winter (hwinter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwinter/pseuds/Helga%20Winter)



> Written for [this prompt](http://ghotocol-kink.livejournal.com/1494.html?thread=48854#t48854) at the ghotocol kink meme. I'M A SUCKER FOR TUXEDO!SEX TOO, OKAY.
> 
> This is a shameless pwp, there is no plot whatsoever, etc etc. Also I'm sorry about the title, it has nothing to do with anything.

They all but fall into the room, jackets shed carelessly on the floor and ties half-off their necks. Ethan pins Will against the wall for a moment and Will lets him, consumed by the feeling of him pressed against his front, the buckle of his belt pressed hard against Will’s hip. He yanks Ethan’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into his pants and worms a hand underneath to press flat against hot skin and smooth muscle, and Ethan bites him on the jaw. Will tilts his head back with a moan.

“I feel-- _ah_ , I feel like we should be moving this towards the bed.”

Ethan’s pupils are blown wide. His hair is disheveled, falling over his forehead and the bridge of his nose. Will wants to fist his hand in it, tilt Ethan’s head back and lick into his mouth.

Abruptly Ethan pulls away.

“Strip,” he orders, and jesus that shouldn’t be so hot. Ethan is already halfway to the bedroom, buttons undone and belt hanging heavy and unbuckled at his waist, before Will can do more than gulp down a lungful of air and stand steady on shaky knees.

He follows, shedding clothing as quick as he can. It isn’t quick enough -- Ethan pulls him down on the bed still nearly fully clothed, gripping him by the two hanging ends of his undone tie and maneuvering his head for a kiss. At first it hurts, Ethan’s teeth catching on his lip hard enough for the metal taste of copper to well up, but then Ethan tilts his head and moves his lips and thrusts his tongue inside, and it’s slick and hot and _good_. He braces himself with hands on either side of Ethan’s ribcage.

Even though he’s on top, Will feels like the one being ravaged. Ethan’s hands are wrapped around the backs of his thighs now, their hips pressed together; Will can’t stop himself from thrusting, hissing as their erections rub through the fabric of their pants and Ethan’s belt buckle digs into his stomach.

“Can I--” he says, and barely recognizes his voice. “Will you--”

“Yes,” Ethan says, voice gravel-dark with desire. His fingers press harder into the muscles of Will’s thighs.

Will wrenches himself away with a gasp, fingers fumbling at his shirt buttons. He moans a little at the way Ethan arches to get his own shirt off, has to lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss to his sternum. Ethan’s heel digs into his lower back and Will scrapes his teeth vengefully against his skin, doing it again when he sees the faint red marks left there.

“If you aren’t going to get naked and fuck me,” Will can feel the rumble of Ethan’s voice through his lips, translating to heat that skates down his chest and pools in his groin, “I am going to be _very upset_.”

“...You can’t just say things like that,” Will informs him after he regains control of his body and stills the violent rolling of his hips.

“Then make me stop.” Ethan smirks at him, mouth red and skin flushed.

“I’ll make you stop, all right,” Will mutters. He finally, finally manages to discard his shirt and that stupid tie, but then Ethan is sliding his own hand into his pants and no, that’s _Will’s_ job.

He doesn’t realize he’s said anything until Ethan laughs, pulling his hand away and gesturing in a “go ahead” motion. Will can _smell_ him, christ, and his mouth waters.

He decides that the best way to get revenge is to suck Ethan until the other man can’t remember his own name. The first touch of his mouth through the rough fabric of Ethan’s trousers has a hand clenching hard on Will’s shoulder. Will can’t help but breathe in deep and nuzzle, open-mouthed, pressing his cheek against the hot line of Ethan’s cock like a cat.

“Any day now,” Ethan grits out, and Will grins. He gets to work, licking wetly until the front of Ethan’s trousers are damp, clinging, and Ethan is making little rocking motions into his mouth.

A hand fists in his hair, yanking him back.

“Cocktease,” Ethan says. It’s supposed to be a reproach but Will can see the twitching at the corners of his mouth, the almost-approving tilt of his eyes.

“You love it,” Will shoots back. His fingers are already working though, unzipping Ethan’s fly and hooking under the elastic band of his boxers, pulling. Ethan sighs when his cock is exposed to the air, hard and listing a little to the right, and Will leans forward.

“Impatient,” Ethan chides, pushing him back with a palm on his chest. Will makes a protesting noise before he realizes it’s only so that Ethan can bring his legs up and strip his pants all the way off. The protest changes to an approving hum.

Ethan’s knees rest heavy on his shoulders, thighs tightening against his ears when Will licks a long strip up his cock, wraps his lips around the tip and _sucks_. Ethan makes a choked noise.

Will takes the time to smirk, then opens his mouth and tries to remember how to relax his throat so he can swallow Ethan down, tongue pressing hard against the vein. He almost chokes when Ethan arches up, pulling back; Ethan allows his legs to fall open and lets him with a worried frown.

“Take your time,” he says, breathing hard. “I don’t want--”

“Shut up,” Will says pleasantly, and tries again. This time he makes it all the way down and Ethan nearly shouts, knees spreading wide.

Will keeps it up until Ethan’s hand in his hair isn’t just resting against his head or urging him on, is instead pulling him urgently away--

“--gonna come if you keep doing that, thought you were going to fuck me--”

\--and Will nods, face hot and jaw sore and out of breath, scrambling for lube and a condom. He nearly yanks out the drawer on the bedside table in his haste.

Ethan rips open the condom packet with his _teeth_ , and Will is back to thinking about things that really shouldn’t be hot but are. He’s so busy thinking about those things in fact, that he doesn’t notice Ethan move until nimble fingers curve around his cock, squeezing once before undoing his fly. It pulls a winded, wounded noise from within Will’s chest.

“A little warn-- _aahh_ \--”

He trembles as Ethan rolls the condom down with firm strokes, the pressure not at all enough. His hands shake and he ends up squirting out too much lube, cold and slippery over his fingers and palm. He bites his lip.

“If you do not,” Ethan says, low and precise, “fuck me in the next ten minutes, I will hurt you.”

Will lets out a shaky laugh, and touches him, reverently, on the jut of his hip, sliding down between his legs and watching the glistening trail left behind. Ethan spread his legs wider and brings his knees up, planting his feet flat on the bed.

“I’ll do it myself,” he threatens, but his voice hitches a little when Will reaches the pucker of muscle, index finger pushing lightly against his opening. “Dammit, _William_.”

Will grins and leans forward for a kiss, pushing _in_ and Ethan opens up for him, a moan vibrating against Will’s lips and hot tightness around his finger. He moves his wrist experimentally and chuckles breathlessly when Ethan bites down on his tongue.

Two fingers has Ethan pushing down, impatient; three and his jaw goes slack, neck arching to expose the long column of his throat, perfect for Will to lean down and suck a bruise on, and Ethan’s hands press down on his shoulders, along his ribs, curl tightly around his hips and pull him in.

“Come on,” he mutters, squirming so that Will’s cock is pressed snug up behind his balls. Will has to break away from his lips and pant, pull his fingers out so he can brace himself for balance. “‘M ready.”

“You are entirely too impatient,” Will manages, but then Ethan hooks his ankles at his lower back, legs around his waist and he has to grab the base of his cock to slide in. He bites his lip hard enough that it starts bleeding again, squeezing his eyes shut. Ethan moans obscenely.

Will doesn’t get time to adjust; Ethan, in a display of acrobatic fitness, takes all his weight on his shoulders and rides Will from the bottom. Will didn’t even know that was _possible_. Not that he spends very long dwelling on it -- he’s too busy trying not to come, eyes flitting helplessly along the shadows that chase themselves along Ethan’s skin, hips following the movements of Ethan’s body.

Eventually he gets it together enough to clamp his hands around Ethan’s waist, hooking an elbow under one of Ethan’s knees to bend him in half.

“Glad-- _nngh_ \--to see that you--fuck, _there_ \--you can--”

“Yeah?” Will says, rolling his hips hard and fast. Both he and Ethan are sweating, panting, and Will can feel the lick of impending orgasm coiling at the base of his spine. He wants Ethan to come first, though, wants to see him fly apart, beautifully uncontrolled like he never is in the field. Wants something that’s for Will alone.

“You can achieve--harder, Will--basic coordination--”

His voice trails off into a bitten-off whine that hits Will low in the gut, makes him snap his hips upwards. Ethan makes another noise.

Will knows he isn’t going to last. He leans forward a little more, enough that Ethan takes more of his weight and he can wrap a hand around Ethan’s cock to strip him hard and fast. Ethan is tightening around him, squeezing down in rhythmic clenches and he can’t help but make a despairing noise at the feel of it, so good he feels like he’s going to die, explode, combust. He doesn’t fight it when Ethan pulls him down for a kiss, sloppy and wet, tongues tangling, just curves his spine and tightens his hand and god, feels Ethan’s mouth go slack under his even as he tightens unbearably around Will’s cock.

Will may black out for a moment; he isn’t sure. When he’s coherent again he’s lying half on top of Ethan, come cooling sticky between their bodies.

“So,” Will says, voice hoarse.

“So,” Ethan says. His hand trails down Will’s back, almost ticklish. Will twitches and then stifles a groan because: oversensitivity, and Ethan is just--

He pulls out before Ethan can do anything else. Ethan barely moves.

“I vote you clean up,” Ethan yawns.

“I vote you take these suits to the dry cleaners,” Will retorts. He slings an arm over Ethan’s chest. 

Neither of them make a move to get up.

**Author's Note:**

> So afterwards I realized that Brandt still has his pants on. WHOOPS. Oh well. We can pretend he falls asleep and wakes up in the morning _really uncomfortable_ and is all "Ethan why did you let me do that fuck these pants are ruined oh god I'm so itchy I hate you" and Ethan is smug as hell because he already took a shower.
> 
> IDK, I JUST DIDN'T TO WRITE MORE AND MAKE THIS LONGER THAN IT ALREADY WAS, I'M SORRY I'M SO LAZY.


End file.
